


In the Enemy's Camp

by tanwenmc



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Brainwashing, F/F, F/M, Foursome - F/F/F/M, Hypnotism, Magical Corruption, Mind Control, Multi, Post-Canon, Sex Magic, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 08:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16133051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanwenmc/pseuds/tanwenmc
Summary: Mahariel's plan to spy on Fen'Harel on Lavellan's behalf goes awry when Fen'Harel propositions her.





	1. Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AceQueenKing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/gifts).



Evuniala Mahariel laid the blade of her dagger against her opponent's throat and grinned. "You're dead."

Her opponent returned the grin, brown eyes flashing with delight. "So I am. Good one, Nala."

"Just paying you back for that little trick you pulled on me last week, Tera," Mahariel said, taking a step back and returning the practice blade to her side. They fell in besides each other, joining a long row of fighters heading for the baths after a good sparring session. Baths were a luxury that Mahariel hadn't expected to find, when she'd volunteered to join the forces that Fen'Harel was gathering.

If it hadn't been for Adhlea Lavellan swearing on her life and her magic that this man really was Fen'Harel, Mahariel would never have believed it. The few times that she'd seen him — from a distance, of course — he hadn't looked particularly intimidating or threatening. He'd looked … almost ordinary. He could have been just any Dalish man. The lack of vallaslin was a bit odd, but there were sometimes extenuating circumstances.

Knowing who and what he truly was gave her an edge of wariness that she knew she would need to survive this. Two months since she had joined the rebellion as a simple Dalish recruit named Nala (close enough to her own name that she would answer unhesitatingly), two months of trying to make herself useful enough to be trusted, but not so useful that she became indispensable. There was no hiding that she was an excellent fighter, so she didn't even try — she let them notice her skills and draft her into the ranks of Fen'Harel's army.

There were rumors floating around the camp that Fen'Harel would make a big strike somewhere. Mahariel wasn't the only fighter who had heard those rumors and put in extra effort, though for her it was more like failing to hold back. Being picked to be a part of whatever that big strike was would advance her status in the camp, possibly get her some truly juicy information to send back to Lavellan, Merrill, and the others.

Mahariel took her turn in the baths, then dressed in the loose Dalish-style clothing that was something like a uniform. Keeper Marethari would have said the style was like something from her grandmother's day, or perhaps her grandmother's grandmother. She combed her fingers through her short black hair, wringing out the last few bits of water before she moved out into the camp.

There was a messenger waiting besides the baths — a boy, perhaps all of nine years old. She wondered idly how he had come to be here, whether a parent or some other relative had brought him, or if he'd just wandered in somehow. His face lit with excitement when he saw her, and he bounded forward.

"Fighter Nala, you are summoned to an audience with the Dread Wolf." The words came out in one excited burst, his face alight with joy at having gotten them out correctly. "There will be dinner there so you are to go immediately."

Mahariel allowed some of the shock she felt to show on her face. She'd been angling for one of the trainers to notice her, not _Fen'Harel himself_. "Of course!" she said, doing her best to sound eager at the prospect. "I will go immediately, as you said."

The boy grinned at her and then ran off, presumably to report a job well done. Well, at least it had been a messenger boy and not an armed guard. Hopefully the audience would not begin with _So, Hero of Ferelden, what are you doing posing as a simple fighter?_

She knew where Fen'Harel's tent was, of course. At the center of the camp, surrounded by sober-faced guards at all times. They were the only ones allowed to carry weaponry outside of the training grounds. Mahariel still felt naked without her daggers strapped to her forearms, where she could have them out in an eyeblink. She'd surrendered them upon being accepted as a member of the rebellion, told that she could perhaps have them back once she'd proved her loyalty.

Mahariel did her best to squash the darkest thoughts that coursed through her mind during the short walk to Fen'Harel's tent. She was searched for contraband before being permitted into the august presence of Fen'Harel, Dread Wolf, and directed to take her shoes off. She took that opportunity to let some of her nervous energy show. Fighter Nala would be nervous, wondering what was going on, perhaps even a little excited to finally be in Fen'Harel's presence.

Taking a deep breath, she entered the tent.

Fen'Harel sat at a small wooden table near the entrance, set with dinner for two. He rose when she entered, and she immediately dropped into a deep, respectful bow. _Creators shelter me. Let me get through this dinner unscathed._ "Dread Wolf. I am here at your command."

"Rise, Nala." His voice was deeper than she would have expected, rich and resonant. A pleasing voice, come to think of it. Perhaps that was part of the appeal. "Sit, and eat. I am sure you are famished."

Mahariel inclined her head and took the seat across from him. She couldn't stop herself from sneaking glances at him as she ate, hoping such behavior would be more or less what he expected. If it wasn't, well, she had known there was a chance she wasn't getting out of this alive. And that was the whole bloody point of being a Warden, to make your life and death mean something. Was there some way he had of telling that she was a Warden?

_Stop. Relax. You won't pull this off if you think of every way this could go wrong._

She caught Fen'Harel studying her in return, and allowed herself to blush at being caught.

"I am sure that you are wondering at the reasons for this summons," Fen'Harel said when she had finished with her meal.

"Yes, Dread Wolf," Mahariel said softly, deliberately looking at the table instead of him.

"There is no need for such formality, Nala. Fen'Harel is fine." His tone was light, clearly trying to put her at ease.

Mahariel allowed herself to relax a little, shifting her gaze up, even meeting his eyes for a moment before looking away. "As you say, Fen'Harel."

"Your trainers think highly of you, Nala. They say that you have both experience and natural talent." Fen'Harel leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him, his gaze hot and intent. "Which clan do you hail from?"

They had thought about this before she left. "Ralaferin." Neria had given her a rather extensive crash-course on that clan.

Fen'Harel nodded. "I had heard that their First joined the Inquisition. Do you know her?"

"Not well," Mahariel replied. "She was chosen young and I spent all my time with the hunters, nearly as soon as I could hold a blade."

He nodded, as though was the expected answer. She did not relax. The person she was pretending to be would still be nervous in his presence. "Dread —" she paused, as though catching herself. "Fen'Harel." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when she used his name. "Forgive me. You still have not told me why you wished to see me."

"You are skilled, dedicated, and …" He met her eyes, and Mahariel's stomach flipped as she saw the intense hunger in them. "Beautiful."

The blush that colored her cheeks was completely unfeigned. Oh, Creators, this was not how things were supposed to go.

"I realize that is terribly forward of me. Let me explain a little. You see, part of the mistake I made when I first awoke from my long slumber was not understanding the situation as it stood, and trying to keep myself apart from the remnants of the People." He shook his head. "It took me too long to understand what they had become, and I will not make the same error twice. So. I began searching the recruits for someone that I thought could … help with that. A second in command. I found capable subordinates and began delegating to them." He reached out and placed his hand over hers. Heat washed over her, and a kind of — odd pressure. "Then I realized there was still something important I was missing. A partner. A woman that I could trust, that could help keep me on track. Someone who had lived among the People and would help me find ways to speak to their hearts." Fen'Harel lifted her hand off the table, caressing it with his fingertips. "As I said, this is terribly forward of me, and of course you are free to refuse." His intense gaze told her that he didn't expect her to refuse.

Mahariel tried to look away, to pretend shyness, or nervousness, or — anything. But she felt completely, utterly trapped by the intensity of his eyes. Her heart was pounding loudly, the sound echoing in her ears, the sensation vibrating through her bones. She forced herself to think. She didn't dare turn down the opportunity. It would give her access to information she would never have had otherwise, and —

And Nala the hunter would be eating this up, would be so starry-eyed at the prospect of sharing the bed of the great Fen'Harel that she would agree instantly.

"I —" she swallowed, trying to clear the lump in her throat. "I am not worthy of such an honor."

"But you are," Fen'Harel countered. "None other who have joined my rebellion can match your fire and beauty."

_How many girls have you said that to?_ Mahariel shoved that question aside. Nala would want to believe him. Nala would be flattered and drawn to him. "I — when you put it that way, I cannot — I would not dream of refusing you."

"Excellent," Fen'Harel said, finally releasing her hand. He stood, and so did she. "You may go, if you wish."

Was this some kind of test? Even if it wasn't, Mahariel knew what she had to do. "I would rather stay, assuming…"

"Oh, most assuredly." Fen'Harel strode over to the other side of the tent, where a small living area was set up. Mahariel tried to calm her racing heart by taking in the details. The furniture was all well-made and polished, but nothing fancy. The rugs underneath her feet were soft, and the lantern illuminated a small couch and two chairs opposite it. Fen'Harel took the couch, clearly leaving it up to her to decide whether she wanted to sit next to him, or…

Mahariel's feet took her to the couch before her mind realized what it was doing. She sank into the soft cushions, Fen'Harel's arm going around her to pull her in closer. She was, all of a sudden, very tired. Not all that surprising, given how hard she'd been working; she was usually asleep within minutes of finding her bed. Not to mention that this soft luxury had been completely absent from her life these past two months.

Fen'Harel nuzzled gently at her neck, and she tilted her head back to allow him better access. His soft lips sent a pleasant tingle through her body. She let out a contented sigh and closed her eyes. A part of her knew she should be trying to be on her guard, to make sure she didn't let anything slip, but…

His lips, his hands felt so good on her skin. It had been a very, very long time since she'd bedded anyone and her body was, apparently, thrilled that this drought was being ended. It seemed like too much effort to do anything but sit there, nestled in against him, while he explored her body.

When his hands found the edges of her shirt and tugged, she lifted her arms in response to his unspoken command, letting him pull it off. Mahariel sighed in delight as he touched her breasts, his fingers tracing slow circles across her sensitive skin. Fen'Harel fastened his lips against hers, kissing her with an intensity that took her breath away. As well as the last of her caution. She caught her breath and kissed him, sinking into it, completely lost in the sensuality of it all.

Fen'Harel guided them to the floor, where he removed her pants and smallclothes. He ran his hands up the insides of her legs before gently spreading them apart and shifting so that his face was right next to her warm, aching cunt. He was gentle with her, his tongue teasing and exploring rather than thrusting right in and demanding that she climax. Mahariel made little sounds of pleasure, gripping the soft rug with both hands as she pressed into him.

It felt like an eternity, it felt like no time at all had passed when her gates opened and she became awash with pure pleasure. Fen'Harel kept his tongue inside her, shepherding her through the ebbs and flows of her climax.

"I …" she said into the silence, feeling as though she had to, "that was …"

"Good?" Fen'Harel asked, running a hand across the flat of her stomach.

Mahariel smiled. "Very. But … what about …"

"Oh, don't worry." His hand found her breast and massaged it gently. The fire inside her rekindled, heat spreading throughout her body once more. "I'll be ready when you want to feel me inside of you."

Her heart quickened its pace, and she found the energy to reach forward and close her hand around his hard cock. "Now," she whispered.

His kiss was fierce and ferocious. So was the way that he took her.

* * *

Mahariel found herself of two minds about her growing relationship with Fen'Harel. On the one hand, it did give her access to more of what he was planning, and she'd been able to sneak some good intel out. As far as she could tell, he had no idea that there was a spy anywhere in his camp, much less that it was _her._

On the other …

She was afraid that her growing attraction to him was diminishing her effectiveness as a spy. He wasn't the most handsome man that she'd ever seen, even if he was among the more skilled lovers she'd had. She felt happy and content when she was with him.

And that was the problem. When she was with him, she couldn't think about anything but sex, and him, and pleasing him, and…

Sometimes, when he was unable to set aside time to be with her for a few days, she found herself stealing away from the main camp and masturbating to thoughts of him. Sometimes when she saw him around the camp, she had to restrain herself from walking over, throwing her arms around him and melting into his embrace.

Today had been a bad day. It had been nearly six days since she had shared Fen'Harel's bed, the longest time since their relationship began, and it was making her nervous, leading to mistakes. She'd actually been rebuked and set to hit practice dummies for a time, which made her feel deeply embarrassed. She _shouldn't_ be feeling this. She just _shouldn't._

_And shouting at yourself doesn't change anything._ Mahariel shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, as she went through a series of methodical strikes against the practice dummy. Slash. Stab. Slash. Slash.

A bell rang, signaling the end of practice, and Mahariel took a step back, wiping the sweat from her forehead and replacing the wooden daggers on the rack. She turned and saw Fen'Harel standing at the edge of the practice grounds. Watching her.

Mahariel froze in place, torn between propriety and the pull his presence seemed to exude, like a physical force calling her over.

Fen'Harel lifted his hand, crooking his finger in an unmistakable _come here_ gesture.

She was halfway across the practice grounds before she realized that was what she was doing. His hands cupped her chin as he kissed her, deeply and thoroughly. She melted, resting her body against his, held up only by the strength of the kiss.

"I am sorry, Nala," he said when they finally broke apart, breathing heavily. "I should not have let so much time pass. You are … you are important to me."

"I want you," she heard herself saying. "I don't want to clean myself up or eat, I want you. Now."

He chuckled, running one hand through her sweat-streaked hair. "Can you restrain yourself long enough to get back to my tent?"

"I think I can manage that," she replied, touching his face, feeling a spreading delight as her fingers caressed his skin.

They walked arm-in-arm to his tent, drawing stares from many of the people they passed. Mahariel hadn't realized until that moment that Fen'Harel had been relatively discreet with their relationship. Now it was out in the open. Now nearly everyone would know.

But that potential problem ceased to matter as soon as they got to his tent and Fen'Harel closed the flaps behind them. The kiss he drew out of her was more intense, more satisfying than the one they had shared in the practice grounds. Her hands grasped at his biceps, clinging to him under the strength of what that kiss made her feel. Her light armor was suddenly an immense burden, and she broke off the kiss so that she could shed it. She needed to feel him. All of him.

Step by step, kiss by kiss, they made their way to Fen'Harel's bed, where she lay on her back, spreading her legs as wide as they could go. Fen'Harel was just as eager as she, judging by the sight of his hardened cock hovering directly over her entrance. Her hands reached around to grasp his buttocks, pulling him down, and the sensation of him sliding into her was something like perfection.

Mahariel dug her nails into his back, holding him close, trying to eliminate all space between their bodies. They kissed and kissed until her need to gasp out her pleasure overwhelmed her, head thudding back against the pillow, gripping him even tighter. She had never known anything even remotely like what she was feeling now. Overwhelmed by his presence, by what he was making her feel, by…

Something else.

Something that promised both release and fulfillment.

Something that was inextricably a part of Fen'Harel.

Something that took hold of her and drew her in, and she had no strength in her to resist it.

Something that wrapped her in soft cords that then sunk into her flesh, becoming a part of her.

Mahariel slammed back into her body and the sensation of her climax cresting, rising, and —

" _Master!_ " she cried, an arrow that arced from her lips to Fen'Harel's bare chest. Through half-lidded eyes she saw him pause as whatever-it-was completed the binding. He was still for a few moments longer, breathing heavily, halting her climax in its tracks.

Then he lifted his head, and his eyes were covered by a bright silvery sheen. Her stomach performed a strange flip, half fear, and half … _longing._

When he moved again, she _felt_ him. Inside her. In more ways than one. Her cock pulsed with desire. Nails dug into her back, keeping her pressed close. It was too much, and she came, and then she came again because of it, and …

Fen'Harel's presence retreated, their spirits separate once more. He kissed the top of her forehead. "Sleep, _vhenan,_ " he said. "We will speak more of this once you have had your rest."

The echo of his words followed her mind down into her dreams.

* * *

"I do not quite understand what happened," Fen'Harel said the next day, when she had taken a bath and wolfed down a hearty breakfast. "The only thing I know for certain is that we are now bound in a way that goes beyond mortal magics."

They sat on the couch much as they had the first night, his arm around her, his warm presence a comfort as she tried to untangle her feelings. She knew, as he had, that there would always be that danger now — his feelings influencing hers; hers influencing his, although she was fairly certain that he would have a much easier time filtering hers out.

"Can it be undone?" she asked, turning her face to look at him. His eyes were back to normal, without the silvery sheen she had glimpsed last night.

She knew he was weighing his words, trying to decide what and how to tell her. "Possibly," he said. "Although it would require study, which would require close proximity, which … could strengthen the bond."

Mahariel studied his face as though she were seeing it for the first time. Even after they had become lovers, she had never forgotten who and what he was, had done her best to still think of him as an enemy to be outwitted. A purely _mortal_ man, in spite of what she knew, in spite of all the legends she had grown up with.

That had been her downfall. If she had remembered _what_ he was as well as _who_ , she might have been more on her guard, and …

She felt an abstract kind of regret. The person she used to be would have fought this, would have done whatever was needed to undo this strange bond between them.

The person she was now, reforged in the crucible of Fen'Harel's desire, wanted no such thing.

"I want you." She repeated her words from earlier. "And that … how _strongly_ I want you means that it can't be undone. If you try, I will fight it." She brought her face in close and kissed him, long and lingering. "I am now what you wanted of me," she whispered. "A partner. Someone you can trust. Someone who will keep you on track."

"My Queen," he replied, sending a shiver of excitement through her body. "I do not want to undo this either, _vhenan_. If you had asked it of me, I would have tried, but…" 

"Then it's a good thing we're in agreement." Mahariel rested a hand against his cheek, and he leaned into her touch.

"Tell me who you really are," Fen'Harel said after a few moments of silence. "I have known from the beginning that Nala was not your real name, or at least not all of it." His eyes locked onto hers, and she felt —she wanted —

"Compel me," her mouth said, her stomach giving that odd flip once more. "What I have to say is — it is too important. You need to know it for truth. You need to know beyond any doubt."

A slow smile crept over his face. She _felt_ his excitement as he summoned his magic, the silvery sheen overlaying his eyes once more. "Tell me," he said, his voice resonating in her mind, "who you are."

"I am Evuniala Mahariel, Grey Warden, Hero of Ferelden." She was lost in his eyes, and she never wanted to come out. "Consort of the Dread Wolf."

"Tell me what you want." He put his hands on her shoulders, gently turning her body so that she was facing him instead of leaning into his side.

"To be by your side. Always."

"Tell me how this makes you feel." The sheen grew brighter. "This magic that compels you."

"It feels exciting." Her breathing grew quicker, her skin prickling with anticipation. "It feels like drowning in you. In your power and majesty. Knowing that you are so much more than me, but you chose me, you —"

Fen'Harel stopped her words with his mouth, the magical compulsion sliding into her along with his tongue. She gasped, shivering with the ecstasy of it all, wanting to collapse into him as she had done before.

"Hear my words and know them to be true." He held her chin in his hand, the other dipping down to caress her breasts. "Knowing that you are the Hero of Ferelden only makes my desire and regard for you grow stronger. I forgive your coming in secret. I forgive the deception. All is made right between us." His thumb traced her jawline. "All will always be right between us."

"Yes," she said, agreement and promise both.

"Now." He rose, the silver magic seeming to settle across his body like a mantle of power. "Let us see what can be done with this new understanding."


	2. Stars

Merrill watched the camp for several days before making her move.

The first reason for her caution was to confirm whether the rumors that had brought her here were true. Much to her dismay, they were. She rarely saw the Dread Wolf without Mahariel by his side — her old friend Evi, seemingly gone over to the enemy.

The second reason was to find a way to talk to Mahariel without anyone knowing. Merrill finally decided that it had to be sometime either before or after Mahariel's daily workouts. Fen'Harel sometimes watched, but mostly he just escorted her there, giving her a very public kiss before heading off to do whatever he was doing.

The whole situation turned Merrill's stomach. She couldn't believe that Mahariel would betray them, betray _her_ in this fashion. But Mahariel returned all of Fen'Harel's open affection, kissing him back, squeezing his hand, behaving like his lover.

Merrill tried to convince herself not to jump to any kind of conclusions, to wait and give Mahariel a chance to explain herself.

So it was that, one morning during a lull in Mahariel's workout, Merrill made the soft bird call that they had used back among the Sabrae. She was relieved to see Mahariel freeze — just a moment, before she went back to what she'd been doing, but it was enough. Merrill waited, figuring that Mahariel would find a way to come to her.

When the trainer called a halt, Mahariel walked over and spoke a few words before venturing into the brush. Merrill made the bird call again and backed up a bit, wanting to make sure that they could speak privately.

Mahariel followed Merrill's trail, stopping under a large tree. She looked around, then made the same bird call Merrill had been using.

Merrill stepped out, letting herself be seen. "Evi," she said, "what in the name of the Creators is going on?"

"It's good to see you too," Mahariel said, grinning as she strode forward to embrace Merrill. Despite her worry, Merrill felt a rush of warmth at holding her old friend like this. "Why are you here? Did something happen?"

"You tell me," Merrill said wryly. "We started hearing rumors that you were — that you — Oh, Evi, is it true? You're his lover?"

Mahariel put her hands on Merrill's shoulders and examined her closely. "Yes," she said. "It wasn't as though I could refuse him, you know. Not and keep my cover intact."

"Oh." Merrill's cheeks flushed. "I didn't think of that."

"Besides, I've gotten some good intel out of being so close to him," Mahariel continued. "Have you been making good use of it?"

Merrill nodded, feeling foolish twice over. "Of course! I should have seen that too."

Mahariel laughed. "I'm touched that you were so worried about me. Listen, I don't have much time. I'll meet you back here tonight. You can tell me more about what's going on then, and I'll pass what I have to you. All right?"

"I'll be here," Merrill said, smiling, the tension inside her unwinding and flowing out. It was going to be all right after all.

* * *

Merrill kept her distance from the camp the rest of the day, replenishing her supplies and organizing her thoughts. There was so much to tell Mahariel, and so many questions she wanted answered.

After night fell, she went back to the tree and waited. A few hours passed before Mahariel came out, their old bird call letting Merrill know it was her.

They hugged again and sat down. Mahariel passed Merrill a small basket of food. "Here. Least I can do since you came all this way for nothing."

"Not nothing," Merrill protested, digging in. "I got to see you." The time they had spent at Skyhold before Mahariel left had rekindled the easy friendship they'd had in their youth.

"It is very good to see a friendly face," Mahariel agreed.

"Is it hard, keeping up the act?"

Mahariel shrugged. "It's hardest around Fen'Harel. He bought my story of being from Ralaferin, but I'm still afraid he's going to ask me a question I can't answer." She grinned. "Don't worry, I have an escape plan if disaster strikes."

Merrill finished the chunk of cheese, digging around in the basket until she found another. "That's good to hear. You'll be staying, then?"

"Of course! Merrill, I'm sharing his _bed._ " Mahariel sounded excited, and Merrill couldn't help but feel a little angry about that. "He trusts me completely."

"Of course," Merrill echoed, turning her gaze away.

"Merrill?" Mahariel laid a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Merrill forced a smile. "Nothing. I'm just still wound up from the journey here. It wasn't easy, you know."

Mahariel squeezed. "I'm sure, and I can only imagine what everyone's been thinking, since the rumors have reached you. I'm glad you came." She shifted position, putting her back against the large tree. "Come on. I'll give you a massage, help you relax." At Merrill's skeptical look, she laughed. "I've picked up a few tricks from the other fighters. It'll help. Trust me?"

"Always," Merrill responded without hesitation, scooting herself over and placing her back against Mahariel's chest. Mahariel laid her hands on Merrill's shoulders and began the massage, gently at first, testing the muscles, finding the spots most in need of attention. Merrill shifted, letting her weight rest completely against Mahariel. This did feel very good. She'd been so stressed, the whole way here…

"Deep breaths," Mahariel said quietly. "In … and out. In … and out. Good. Keep going. It'll help you relax. Relax. Trust me."

Merrill did as Mahariel bid, her eyes feeling heavy. Really, really heavy. It would be rude to fall asleep like this. She forced herself to stay alert, but it was hard when —

Mahariel pressed her fingers to Merrill's temple. "Ohh," Merrill breathed, losing the struggle against her heavy eyelids. "That feels … that feels…"

"In … and out." Merrill took and released the breath. "In … and out. Good, Merrill. It's okay to relax when you're with me. You've always trusted me, haven't you?"

"Mmm," Merrill replied, her limbs starting to feel very heavy.

"Deep breaths. In … and out. Your shoulders are relaxed. Your neck is relaxed. You are completely relaxed."

Merrill let out a happy sigh. Mahariel caressed the side of her cheek gently. "Good. Good. You don't have to do anything but sit here and listen to me, okay? Trust me."

"I trust you, Evi," Merrill said, her voice sounding very distant in her own ears.

"Good. Deep breaths for me, Merrill. You're so relaxed. Just listen to my voice. My voice will keep you relaxed. Keep you feeling good. You want to keep feeling this good."

It was almost too much effort to hum her soft agreement, but somehow Merrill managed. She trusted Mahariel. She always had.

"Let my voice take you deeper. Let my voice make you even more relaxed. In and out, Merrill. In … out … Good. In a moment, Merrill, I'm going to count to three, then snap my fingers, and you're going to fall into a deep, deep sleep, where you'll still feel this good, this relaxed. All right?"

Merrill wasn't sure whether she responded or just thought about it, but it didn't matter. "Three … two … one…"

The snap sent Merrill spiraling down, down, further down, caught in warmth and bliss. "Deeply asleep, now." Mahariel's voice seemed to resonate inside her, no longer a soft whisper next to her ear, but loud and commanding. Merrill let the tenderness of Mahariel's words wrap around her. "Deep, deep asleep."

"Asleep…" Merrill said.

"You trust me, Merrill, so that means you'll always tell me the truth. Whatever I ask, you will speak from your heart."

"Yes, Evi."

"Good." Merrill had a vague sensation of lips pressed to her cheek. She smiled. "Good. I know you're deeply asleep, Merrill, but you'll find you can answer my questions clearly, without any effort." Fingers played with Merrill's hair. "Why did you come, Merrill?"

"I was worried about you." Merrill frowned, feeling as though there was some reason she ought to still be worried.

"And now you see that I'm okay, and you feel better," Mahariel said, and the vague worry vanished entirely. "You know that I am okay and that I am in control of things. You trust me."

"I trust you, Evi."

"Remember that, Merrill. Whenever something starts to seem odd to you, just remember that you trust me, and I told you it was going to be okay. Remember it. Say those words to yourself. _I trust Evi._ "

"I trust Evi."

"Good, Merrill. You're not worried anymore, but you were. You can tell me why. You'll feel better when you do."

"Because … because I …" Merrill _wanted_ to tell Mahariel, to tell her friend Evi, but it was hard to find the words, the reason kept slipping out of her grasp.

"This is a dream, Merrill. A pleasant dream. And in dreams, things can happen that would never normally happen, right?"

"… Yes."

"Let go, Merrill. Let go of all that worry. It doesn't matter right now. I know you can do it. You're completely relaxed. You feel so good. Let go. Let go and drift."

Merrill was floating on Evi's words, on Evi's touch. She was dreaming. She was dreaming, and in dreams … it was okay to do things that wouldn't ever really happen.

"I was jealous," she said, fully acknowledging it for the first time. "I was jealous of him."

"Why, Merrill?"

"Because I love you, Evi. I've always loved you."

"Oh, Merrill." Mahariel kissed her forehead. "I'm so happy you told me. It means that you trust me completely. You will always remember that."

"I trust Evi."

"Good. And every time you say that, every time you remember you trust me, you will also remember how much you love me and want to be with me."

"Yes, Evi."

"Now, this is your dream, Merrill. This is a dream where you acknowledged that you love me. And anything can happen in dreams." Evi squeezed Merrill's shoulder. "I'm going to count to three, Merrill, and when I reach three, you'll find you can move normally. You'll still be dreaming. But it will be a dream where you can act on how you feel. And you should, Merrill. Because you trust me. One. Two. Three."

Merrill opened her eyes and turned her body around, looking at Evi. She was so beautiful. Especially when she smiled, like she was doing now, like she was so happy that Merrill was here, and…

Before she knew what she was doing, she had leaned in to kiss Evi. And, miracle of miracles, Evi … Evi was kissing her _back._ Merrill made a soft sound of joy, her lips still pressed against Evi's, her hands coming up to wrap around Evi's back.

It was more than she'd ever dreamed, but it wasn't really enough. Merrill slipped her hands under Evi's shirt, lifting it off, her hands caressing Evi's breasts, exploring every inch of her torso. Evi returned the favor, gently lifting Merrill's shirt away, running a fingertip between Merrill's breasts.

"That's right," Evi whispered, her lips pressed against Merrill's ear. "I'm here, and I'm willing, and you can do all the things you've been yearning for…"

Merrill kissed Evi again, more fiercely this time. Yes. This was everything she'd wanted. For so long. Her kisses grew more frenzied, more heated. She wanted. She _wanted._ Evi.

Hands closed on her shoulders, bringing her gently to the ground. Merrill found that her mouth was next to Evi's cunt, and she inhaled, relishing the scent, before diving in. A second later, she felt Evi's tongue gently teasing at her entrance, sending a shiver up her spine. Merrill pressed harder against Evi's crotch, her tongue flailing wildly as she basked in how Evi was making her feel. Every time she thought she was close to falling over the edge, Evi pulled back, and Merrill found she could focus on pleasing Evi—

And then, finally, too soon, Merrill felt the wave of pleasure that had been building since she opened her eyes crest, breaking over her and making her shiver and shudder and move mindlessly against Evi's body.

It was everything she'd ever wanted.

She wanted more.

* * *

"Hey. Merrill?" Mahariel shook her shoulder. "I have to go, Merrill."

"Wha?" Merrill asked, eyes blinking as she tried to make sense of what was happening. "Oh. Oh no. I fell asleep on you."

Mahariel laughed. "Told you it'd help you relax! Listen, Merrill, I don't know what you told the others, but — don't leave right away, okay? It's good to have a friend here. Stay a few days at least."

It wasn't what she and Lavellan had agreed upon. She was supposed to head back as soon as she'd figured out what was going on with Mahariel. The longer she stayed, the greater her chances of being caught, and she'd already spent a lot of time just trying to figure out how to talk to Mahariel.

But when Merrill thought of leaving Mahariel behind, her gut clenched in fear and anxiety. "Two days," Merrill said. "Then I really need to go, or they'll start to worry."

"They know you can take care of yourself," Mahariel said, "but I won't argue. I know I'm just being selfish." She smiled, standing. "I'll come back tomorrow after dinner."

"Bring whatever information you have with you." Merrill stood, shaking feeling back into her heavy limbs. "I'll take it with me when I leave."

"Of course." Mahariel hugged Merrill, her breath hot against Merrill's cheek. "I'm so glad you came."

Merrill retreated to where she'd made camp, her insides churning with a range of emotions she couldn't quite identify. There was something about the situation that still made her nervous. Something she couldn't put her finger on.

She shook her head. She trusted Mahariel. She shouldn't be this worried.

* * *

Merrill spent the next day watching the camp, never staying in one place for too long. She did her best to memorize faces, though she was sure it wouldn't be that helpful in the end.

Mahariel met her at the same tree after full dark had fallen, another basket of food in hand. Merrill gave her a grateful smile before digging in.

"I wrote some things down for you," Mahariel said when Merrill had finished the meal. "I don't want to spend what little time we have going over intel. I'd much rather talk. Like we used to."

"It seems like a really long time ago now," Merrill said, accepting the proffered piece of paper. "The four of us — you, me, Tamlen, Fenarel —"

"Getting into trouble in the woods." Mahariel shifted so that she was sitting next to Merrill, draping one arm across her shoulders. Merrill felt her heartbeat quicken. "Like we're doing now."

Merrill laughed nervously. "I sure hope there won't be trouble."

"You're still far too tense," Mahariel scolded. "Come on. Same as last night. Let me help you with that."

"I — thought you wanted to talk." Merrill was transfixed by the odd expression on Mahariel's face, an intense confidence she hadn't known her old friend possessed.

"Sure, we can talk. _While_ you let me help you." Mahariel laid a hand against Merrill's cheek. "Don't you trust me?"

"I trust you, Evi." The words slid out of her lips without any conscious thought, and before she knew it Merrill was once again resting against Mahariel. Heat rose within her, a heat that she'd been denying for years.

Merrill had to bite her lip against that heat when Mahariel laid hands on her shoulders and squeezed, a motion that seemed to take Merrill's breath away. "Relax," Mahariel breathed against Merrill's ear. "Trust me. Relax. Remember how good this felt yesterday. Remember those sensations."

Merrill was almost positive that arousal hadn't been part of said sensations, but her body wasn't having any of it. Being this close to Mahariel, having Mahariel's hands roaming freely across her back…

"You can have it again if you just relax and trust me. Let it all go, Merrill. Feel the tension draining out of you."

With a deep sigh, Merrill slumped against Mahariel, her eyes closing so that she could better enjoy the sensations.

"Good, Merrill. Remember how good you felt before. How good it felt to relax into a deep, deep sleep, while still feeling so relaxed. Breathe in … out. Good. When I snap my fingers, Merrill, you will fall back into that deep, relaxed sleep. Three, two … _one._ "

Merrill tumbled down, down, and even further down, into the warmth of Mahariel's voice. "Focus on how you feel, Merrill, on what this deep, relaxed sleep brings to your body. Focus on how good it feels. You want it, don't you?"

"Mmmm." It was too hard to form words, being so relaxed, feeling so good…

"You want to be able to come back to this deep, relaxed sleep, where you are completely wrapped in my voice, in my touch."

"Yes." She wasn't sure why she had been able to say that clearly, but she was happy, because the thought of Mahariel being able to bring her back here was … was …

"When ever I put my hands on your shoulders and say, 'Relax for me', you will find yourself back in this deep, relaxed sleep. What are the words, Merrill?"

"Relax for me," Merrill repeated obediently.

"Good." Mahariel slid her hands under Merrill's shirt, resting her fingers against Merrill's bare skin. "When you think about me, Merrill, how do you feel?"

"I feel … warm inside. I want to be near you."

"You love me."

"I love you." Nothing in her life had ever felt more true than those words. "I've always loved you."

"I know, Merrill, and it makes me happy, so happy, to hear you say that." Evi's fingers played across Merrill's breasts, making her shudder with delight. "I want you to say that to yourself whenever you begin to worry, to have doubts. Remind yourself that you love and trust me."

"I love Evi. I trust Evi."

"And when you say those words to yourself, you will know how glad I am to have you here, and you will decide that you need to stay. So you can be near me."

"Near you…"

"It is the most important thing right now, Evi, the only thing that matters. You love me. You trust me. You need to stay with me." Evi slid her shirt off, kissing the nape of her neck. "You love me. You trust me. You need to stay with me. Say it for me, Merrill."

"I love Evi. I trust Evi. I need to stay with Evi."

"Again and again, Merrill, keep saying those words. Let them sink into your mind. Let the pleasure I give you now help them sink in." Merrill found herself lying on the ground, her pants pulled off, legs spread wide. Evi ran her hands across Merrill's inner thighs, fingertips tracing light patterns across some of Merrill's most sensitive areas. Then Evi slid a finger inside her, testing Merrill's responses.

"I love Evi. I trust Evi. I need to stay with Evi." The words just kept coming as Merrill surrendered herself to pleasure, spilling out in an endless loop. Love. Trust. Need. Evi added another finger, increased the pressure. Merrill whimpered, tongue tripping over the words. "E—Evi."

"I know, Merrill, it's hard to keep speaking when you'd rather just let all those delicious sounds of enjoyment come out. But you have to keep saying those words for me. I know you can do it."

"I, I, …" Evi's fingers closed around the bundle of nerves at the center of Merrill's pulsing core, and somehow that made it easier to speak. "I love Evi. I trust Evi. I need to stay with Evi." The words seemed to sear themselves into her mind. She spoke them over and over until her body reached its limit, going taut for a few bright, delicious moments before she shuddered and pressed hard against Evi's hand. Awash in bliss. Awash in Evi.

"You've done so well, Merrill, so very well. Tell me again what you need to say."

Through the haze of her afterglow, Merrill got her mouth working again. "Love Evi. Trust Evi. Need Evi."

"Good girl." Evi kissed her forehead. "I'm going to count backward from ten. As I do, I want you to dress yourself, and come back up from this deep, relaxed sleep. You'll remember that we talked. You'll remember you felt comfortable with me. Nothing will seem strange or out of place. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Evi."

"Good. Ten. Nine. Eight…"

* * *

She had to stay.

It was the second of the two days Merrill had promised Mahariel and it wasn't enough.

She spent the day cycling through arguments with herself. None of the good, solid reasons that she should be leaving seemed to be enough to overcome the longing she felt for Mahariel's presence. She needed to stay. She needed to be with Mahariel. With Evi.

And there was no good way to do it. No reason for her to hang around here. Merrill knew she'd be useless as a spy. It just wasn't in her nature; it wasn't something that bothered her.

She had to stay.

Her patience almost deserted her when the sun began to set. She made herself wait for full dark, practicing some of the exercises the Keeper had taught her years ago in an attempt to still her mind.

But all thoughts lead back to Evuniala Mahariel. _Evi._

Merrill was practically shaking with impatience by the time Mahariel showed. Her friend took one look at her before pulling her into a tight embrace that finally, _finally_ , eased the worst of her nerves.

"What's wrong?" Mahariel asked, one hand stroking Merrill's back gently.

"I can't go." The words came rushing out from her. "I can't bear the thought of leaving you here alone. I … I need to stay. I don't know how, I just know I need to."

Mahariel was quiet for a time, continuing to stroke Merrill's back. "There might be a way," she said slowly.

"How? What is it?"

"I don't think you'll like it—"

"Let me make the decision," Merrill pleaded.

Mahariel shook her head ruefully. "All right. If … if you became Fen'Harel's lover."

Merrill was stunned into silence, eyes wide, staring intently at Mahariel's face. "Would he … would he do that?" Somehow the question of whether or not _she_ would do that had been completely sidestepped. She knew, with absolute certainty, that she would do anything to be with Mahariel. Including, apparently, sleeping with the Dread Wolf.

"There has been an expectation that he would have a harem instead of just one partner," Mahariel said. "I am already acknowledged as his consort, but, frankly, it would be odd if he didn't also have a concubine or two. He is the Dread Wolf, after all." She brought one of her hands up to caress Merrill's cheek. "He would be gentle with you, Merrill, I know he would. He might not even ask for you that often."

"Would you be with me?" Merrill hadn't meant to say that, but once again, the words just came out. "I — I love you, Evi, and I want the time that isn't his, your time that is, and mine, if I do this, if I —"

Mahariel cut her off with a kiss that took her breath away, a kiss that was the fulfillment of a thousand nights of longing, a kiss that held the promise of a thousand kisses to come, a thousand nights spent together. Merrill felt weak by the time the kiss was done, held up only by Mahariel's arms around her.

"Oh, Merrill, you have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that," Mahariel murmured. "Yes, I would. When Fen'Harel does not need me, I would gladly spend that time with you." She kissed the top of Merrill's forehead. "So you will come and live with us?"

Merrill nodded, feeling too shaky to speak. Mahariel took a step back and linked their arms together, walking forward and tugging Merrill in her wake.

They walked openly to the camp, the guards straightening up and giving Mahariel respectful nods as they got closer. Mahariel lead her to the largest tent, towards the back of the camp, and walked right inside.

A figure stood there, hands clasped behind his back, the lamplight glinting off of his bald head. Mahariel sank to her knees in a single, graceful movement, head bowed, and Merrill felt … _something_ … that brought her down next to Mahariel, heart pounding with anticipation.

Fen'Harel stepped forward, one hand reaching out to rest under Mahariel's chin. He drew her up gently, his eyes never leaving her face, and smiled. "So, _vhenan_ , all went as planned?"

"Yes, Master," Mahariel said in a hot, breathy tone that made Merrill's insides clench with … with …

It wasn't fear, and that should have scared her. It was _desire_ that Merrill heard in Evi's voice. Desire, longing … love?

Fen'Harel kissed Evi, a strong kiss that made Evi melt the way that she had made Merrill melt, not so long ago. When he broke it off, Evi's cheeks were bright red, her skin flushed with need. He smiled, releasing her and turning his attention to Merrill. "So, Merrill. You are prepared to be my lover?"

"If it keeps me with Evi," Merrill replied, looking away from his bright, piercing gaze. "I would do anything for Evi."

"Yes, you would." Fen'Harel smiled again, but it wasn't a smile meant for her. It was meant for Evi, who stood behind Merrill, hands on her shoulders. "My Evuniala made sure of that."

Evi bent, pressing her lips to Merrill's ear. "Relax for me," she breathed, and Merrill —

— fell —

— just like Evi had told her to—

"Deep, relaxed sleep, Merrill. Focus only on my words. On my voice."

"Yes, Evi."

"Good. Open your eyes."

Merrill had half-expected to see Evi in front of her, but it was still Fen'Harel, eyes fixed on her face. Evi's hands on her shoulders kept her still. "Focus on my words as you look at Fen'Harel. You must meet his eyes, Merrill, it's very important."

She couldn't see why it would be important, but … "Yes, Evi."

"Remember all those things you told me earlier, Evi. How much you love me. How much you want to be with me. Focus on those feelings. Focus on my words. You belong to me."

"I belong to you," Merrill repeated dutifully, staring into Fen'Harel's eyes.

"You will do as I say."

"I will do as you say."

"And here's the important part, Merrill, the part that you really need to understand." Evi's hands tightened on her shoulders. "All those things you feel, the love, the need, the willingness to do as I say… that is what I feel for _him._ For Fen'Harel." Evi's voice dropped a little, soft and infinitely tender. "For my Master."

Merrill felt an ache of disappointment as the meaning of Evi's words sunk in. "You're not … you're not mine?"

"Yours, but also his, Merrill. You'll understand soon enough. The way it feels … oh, Merrill. There's nothing else like it." Evi's thumbs traced loose patterns across Merrill's shoulders. "For now, all you have to do is leave yourself open to me. Can you do that, Merrill?"

"Of course," Merrill said, still trying to understand. She was Evi's, but Evi was Fen'Harel's. She'd known that was how it would have to be. Evi had told her. No, that wasn't really what Evi had told her, but …

Evi trailed her fingertips down Merrill's back, making Merrill hiss in surprised delight. "Relax. You trust me. And it feels so good to be here, to be relaxed, wrapped in my voice…"

She wanted to close her eyes and bask in this, but Evi had said it was important to meet Fen'Harel's eyes, so Merrill kept looking. Her world narrowed around her, to the feel of Evi's hands on her bare skin, the sound of Evi's voice, reminding her of how good this all felt…

And somehow, Fen'Harel lost his clothes and stood naked in front of her. Merrill felt an unexpected thrill of desire to see his cock, erect and throbbing, communicating his desire clearer than any words could have.

And then Merrill was sitting against the side of the bed, her legs spread apart, Evi's hands tracing up her thighs while she reminded Merrill of how good, how wonderful it was to be here, to be listening to Evi, and how aroused she was, how wet, and how much she needed the release that Evi was going to bring her.

"Your desire rises in you, Merrill," Fen'Harel told her, stepping forward, one hand supporting her head as the other tilted her chin forward and opened her mouth. "It's all you can think about. It's all that matters. You need this."

"You need me," Evi said before she slid two fingers inside Merrill at the same time that Fen'Harel slid his cock into her mouth. Merrill moaned, her body pulled in two different directions as Fen'Harel stroked her cheek and Evi stroked her cunt…

"You belong to me." Merrill didn't know which one said it, or maybe it was both, because they were both touching her, claiming her —

She nearly lost her hold on Fen'Harel's cock as she came, insides clenching around Evi's fingers. "Keep going, Merrill," Evi said, and she did, because she would do what Evi said, she would always do what Evi said. "Make him climax. Then you'll know. Then you won't worry about it ever again."

Merrill trusted Evi, so while the aftershocks of her climax washed over her, she did her best to please Fen'Harel with her mouth, her tongue flicking across the tip in an attempt to replicate some things that always made her feel good. It was surprisingly easy to lose herself in it, the sounds of Fen'Harel's obvious pleasure fueling her own desire to do as Evi told her.

"Good, Merrill, good." Evi touched Merrill's still-sensitive breasts. "Almost there. Almost…"

And then Fen'Harel gave a cry of pure delight, warmth filling Merrill's mouth, trickling down her throat, along with —

Merrill understood, just as Evi had promised.

_I belong to Evi. Evi belongs to Fen'Harel._

_I belong to Fen'Harel._

_I belong to Fen'Harel._


	3. Sun

It had been a trap. _Of course_ it had been a trap.

Adhlea Lavellan had been given ample time to reflect on that, left alone in — well, she didn't actually know. She'd been blindfolded after being captured, roughly lead through the camp at the head of the small group of ex-Inquisition fighters who had volunteered to come with her. And then she'd been separated from them, taken one way while they all went another. At least, according to the guards who had escorted her to this place.

She was tied to a pole, arms stretched out above her head with her wrists and ankles bound together. She'd be sore whenever she was loosed from this position, but it wasn't painful. Yet.

Lavellan ground her teeth and shoved away the beginning of another round of self-recrimination. She'd _had_ to come. She had felt guilty enough letting Merrill go by herself, and the absolute silence from Fen'Harel's camp in the weeks that followed Merrill's departure (and failure to return) had told her all she really needed to know.

Neither Mahariel nor Merrill was spying for them inside the camp. They were either captured, or dead. If they were captured, Lavellan had to try and get them out, because if it wasn't for her, they wouldn't have gone.

Cassandra would tell her that not everything was her fault; no one had known who and what Solas was when he joined the Inquisition. That didn't stop her from feeling like she should have known and done more to stop him.

There was a rustle off to one side — a tent flap being opened? Lavellan held herself still, waiting to see what happened next.

Hands removed her blindfold. Lavellan blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the light. "Merrill?"

"Does it hurt? It looks like it hurts," Merrill said, drawing a small knife and beginning to saw at the ropes that tied Lavellan's wrists together.

"Just uncomfortable," Lavellan replied, bringing her freed wrists down and rubbing the circulation back into them. "Merrill — what's going on?"

"Later." Merrill bent, starting on Lavellan's ankles, and Lavellan took a minute to view her surroundings. She knew instantly that this was Solas' tent, by the opulence and the old-fashioned decor. Lavellan reached out with her magic, sensing the wards around the tent. Good ones, of course. If they were broken, Solas would know and come running to see what had happened. Ah, Creators, how was she going to get out of this?

Merrill finished undoing Lavellan's ankles, putting an arm out to help her get her balance. Lavellan gave a brief nod of thanks, mind whirling with thoughts and plans.

"Merrill."

The voice was all too familiar, and Merrill stiffened, turning to face the figure that had just entered the tent. Solas, wearing the same wolf pelt that he had when Lavellan had last seen him, looking dignified and regal and every inch the Dread Wolf of legend.

Lavellan gathered her mana, preparing to summon her blade — and was instantly cut off. She fought against despair as she watched Solas walking towards a frozen Merrill. He brought up a hand and laid it against her cheek, then spoke a single word in elvhen.

" _Relax."_

The change in Merrill was instantaneous and total. All the tension and anxiety that had been there when Solas walked in vanished completely, and her face held a look of utter adoration. "Master," she said, her voice breathy. The whole thing was making Lavellan want to throw up.

"You've done well, Merrill. Wait here." Solas stepped past her, and only when he was within reach did Lavellan discover that her body was frozen. She barely kept her fury contained, not wanting to give Solas the satisfaction of getting such an intense reaction out of her.

"Hello, Adhlea. It's good to see you again." It was the first time Lavellan could ever remember Solas using her first name. There had never been a close bond betwen them; he was too unlike the Dalish she knew for her to feel comfortable around him. She'd even yelled at him, once, for having all this knowledge and seemingly refusing to share it with the Dalish. Like he was somehow better than them.

Learning that he was, and had always been, the Dread Wolf had explained a lot.

"I wish I could say the same." Lavellan made a point of struggling against the magic that held her body still. "Let me go and I'll forget this ever happened."

"And you'll go right back to trying to stop me." Solas shook his head sadly. "No, Adhlea. Your resistance, the last gasp of the Inquisition — it ends here."

"What have you done to Merrill?"

Solas chuckled, turning back to give Merrill's cheek another pat. "What she wanted. I know, I know. You don't believe me. You don't have to. You'll see what I mean soon enough."

"How about now?" Anger leaked into Lavellan's voice despite herself. The sooner he made his move, the sooner she could try to counter it.

"Just waiting for one more person." Solas raised a hand, fingers twisting, and Lavellan found her body moving towards a chair and taking a seat. Merrill fell to her knees, her face still holding a vacantly blissful expression.

The tent flap opened again, and Mahariel walked in. Both Solas and Merrill lit up at her entrance, Solas walking over and pulling her in for a long, deep kiss. To Lavellan's utter horror, Mahariel returned the kiss enthusiastically, holding Solas close and running a loving hand across his back.

_"Vhenan,_ " Solas said when they finally broke apart. "As you can see, Adhlea is here."

"So she is," Mahariel responded, taking Solas' hand in hers. They appeared for all the world to be lovers who couldn't get enough of each others' presence. _Shit. Shitshitshit_. How had this gone so wrong?

Mahariel walked over to Merrill and laid a hand on her head. Merrill's face got even more vacant, if such a thing was possible. "Evi."

"Merrill. Go deeper for me, now."

Merrill let out a sigh, eyes closing, shoulders slumping. Her breathing became even and she started murmuring words to herself. Lavellan was starting to get a clearer picture of what had happened, and she _really_ didn't like it.

Mahariel stopped in front of Lavellan, giving her a considering look. "I really ought to thank you for setting this in motion. If you hadn't asked me to spy, I would never have known the bliss that is being Fen'Harel's consort."

"Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" Lavellan exclaimed, fear and panic and disbelief mingling together inside her. "The _bliss_ that is being his _consort?_ "

"You'll understand soon."

Lavellan snorted. "Yeah, he said that too. Why don't you go ahead and do whatever it is you're going to do and stop dancing around it?"

Mahariel looked back over her shoulder at Solas, who gave her a fond smile and stepped forward. He stopped in front of Lavellan, while Mahariel went back over to Merrill, bending to whisper something in her ear. Solas bowed his head and closed his eyes, hands moving in a circle, muttering words under his breath. Lavellan felt the magic in what he was doing, though her own mana was still blocked.

Solas' hands dropped to his side, his head raising as a shimmering ball of silver-blue light appeared in front of Lavellan's face. The impulse to close her eyes was too slow, and she found herself drawn to it. The way that the colors moved inside it, twirling, mixing and then breaking apart again…

Lavellan shook her head violently and tried to wrench away from the sight. She managed to close her eyes, her face scrunched in concentration.

"The light calls to you, Adhlea." Solas' voice was deep, resonant; it seemed to reach deep inside her and pluck a string whose vibration echoed through her, making her shiver. "It is so pleasing to look at, the way that it sparkles, the way the colors swirl…"

Lavellan bit her lip, breathing hard.

"Open your eyes and look."

For some reason, the direct command was impossible to ignore, and Lavellan's eyes flew open once more. She'd been foolish to block this out before. It was so pleasing to look at, the shimmer, the patterns of it … she felt like she could stare at it forever.

"Let the light fill you." It was Mahariel this time, her voice soft and musical. "Let that sensation of deep pleasure spread from your head, to your chest, and all through your body…"

Lavellan took a deep sigh, and the light seemed to grow larger, moving towards her as though it really could fill her.

"Feel your thoughts swirl away with every pulse of the light." Solas laid a hand on her left shoulder, Mahariel on her right. "Let it empty your mind out, breath by breath."

"Feel the pleasure and warmth of the light." Mahariel's words seemed to overlap with Solas', now, both of them so close, whispering to her.

"Your thoughts vanish …"

"… your body fills with pleasure …"

"… completely relaxed …"

"… completely open …"

Lavellan was filled with it, the silver-blue light wrapped around her head, making everything in the tent seem that much brighter, that much more vivid. Hands parted her legs, fingers tested her entrance.

" … emptier you become, the more aroused you feel …"

" … sinking deeper into pleasure and warmth …"

Someone's tongue touched her cunt, probing gently, and Lavellan let out a contented sigh.

" … feel the arousal overwhelming you …"

" … deeper and deeper …"

" … washing away resistance …"

" … feeling only pleasure …"

_Pleasure._ The word thrummed through her in time with her aching insides, in time with the tongue that stroked her sensitive spots. _Pleasure._

" … so good to give yourself to it…"

" … filled from head to toe, every part of you …"

" … so good …"

" … building towards your climax, Adhlea …"

" … stronger …"

" … so warm, so good …"

" _Now._ " Two voices at once, demanding, commanding. " _Climax. Now."_

Lavellan cried out, pressing her crotch forward against the tongue that was moving inside her, hands gripping the arm of the chair as her climax washed over her. Her mind was empty, her body filled with the light and the pleasure that came with it. She came for what felt like ages, panting and moaning while wrapped in the light, and its magic, and …

" _Sleep_." That dual sound again, two voices sending shivers up her spine.

Lavellan spiraled down, further down within herself, feeling detached from her body as it was lifted away from the chair and moved to a nearby bed. _Sleep_ echoed inside her head, over and over, somehow mingling with the light that still filled her, pulling her down, and down, and …

" _Empty. Relaxed. Empty. Relaxed."_

It took a few minutes before she realized she was saying those words along with the other two, and then they went silent, and it was just her voice, her voice reinforcing how the light made her feel.

"Look into the light, Adhlea. Lose yourself in it."

It was above her head, and she felt her mouth open in a smile as she drank it in once more. "Empty. Relaxed."

"Good, Adhlea." Only one voice, the one that was light and musical. The hand that belonged to the voice stroked her cheek. "You can hear me clearly, and your mouth will form the words I tell it to, no matter how aroused you become. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

" _Very_ good. You will repeat my words back to me, and know them to be true."

Lavellan was vaguely aware of her legs being parted once more, desire flaring from the touch. "I will repeat your words back to you. I will know them to be true."

"You want to obey."

"I want to obey."

"When you obey, you feel pleasure."

"When I obey, I feel pleasure."

The voice had her repeat those words over and over, while hands caressed her breasts, while fingers stroked her insides. _Obey. Pleasure. Obey. Obey._

"You will obey Evuniala Mahariel. She is your Mistress."

"I will obey Evuniala Mahariel. She is my Mistress."

"You will obey Solas. He is Fen'Harel. He is your Master."

Her mouth opened, but the words would not come. That wasn't right.

"That's all right, Adhlea. Just relax." Lips kissed the side of her neck. A hard cock slid inside her, and she quivered with anticipation.

"You feel pleasure when you obey." The cock thrust deeper inside her, making her gasp and arch her back.

"I feel pleasure when I obey." It felt so good. All of it. The voice that talked to her, kissed her cheek and neck, the light that wrapped around her and filled every inch of her, the hard cock pulsing, pressing.

"You obey when you repeat my words and know them to be true."

"I obey when I repeat your words and know them to be true."

"Good, Adhlea. Very, very good." Her breast was cupped, a finger rolling across her nipple. "You will obey Solas. He is Fen'Harel. He is your Master."

"I will obey Solas. He is Fen'Harel. He is my master."

"Evuniala is your Mistress. You will obey. Fen'Harel is your Master. You will obey."

The light was still swirling, endlessly swirling, binding the words to her and her to the words. "Evuniala is my Mistress. I will obey. Fen'Harel … Fen'Harel is my Master. I will obey."

"You will obey your Mistress. You will obey your Master. Say it again, and again, until you climax, and when you do, you will hear it in your mind."

The words came easier this time, the truth of them rippling through her, mingling with the pleasure she felt. "I will obey my Mistress. I will obey my Master. I will obey my Mistress. I will obey my Master."

"Watching you like this, _vhenan_ …" Lavellan heard the words, but did not permit them to interrupt her litany. "Seeing how skillfully you manipulated them, shaped their thoughts… you truly are perfect for me."

"You have no idea how much it pleases me to hear you say that, Fen'Harel."

_Fen'Harel. Master. I will obey._

"My Evuniala." Her Master stilled, putting pressure on her sensitive spots, holding her right at the edge of another climax. "Shall I have her tend to you next? Shall I whisper words to her that she must obey, further melting and molding her mind while she brings you pleasure?"

_Evuniala. Mistress. I will obey._

"I'm getting wet just thinking about it." Her Mistress moved away from her body, and she heard them kissing, her Master and her Mistress. "Merrill will need some attention too. I can hear her whimpering from here."

"I will see to Merrill. You deserve a reward after all this."

"So do you, my love. Finish it. Finish claiming her."

Her Master began moving again, pressing against her, head dipping to claim a rough kiss from her lips. "The words your Mistress told you to repeat will echo in your mind so that you can focus on what you feel. You will know that your Master has brought you this pleasure. You will know that you are bound to him."

"Bound," Lavellan whispered as she heard her litany in her mind. _Obey Mistress. Obey Master._

"Bound," Master agreed, kissing her again. "Now. Come for me, Adhlea."

She obeyed, the pleasure of her body mixing with the pleasure at having obeyed, at knowing she was bound … her hips raised off the bed, hands clutching at his back as she moved without thought, with singular purpose. _Pleasure_. _Obey._ She kissed him until her sounds of delight could not be contained and she had to lay her head back on the pillow and moan.

Her Master cried out, the warmth of his seed spilling inside her. His hands cupped her face and he kissed her again, and again, pushing into her, taking what he needed.

When it was over, when she lay wrapped in light and warmth and bliss, her Master pulled away. She watched him walk over to where Merrill knelt next to the bed, tilting her chin up and giving her a tender kiss. He removed Merrill's hand from between her legs, guiding her to lie on her back. His mouth moved, and Lavellan wasn't sure if she actually heard him saying the words to Merrill or if they still echoed in her head. _I will obey my Master. I will obey Fen'Harel._

"You've done so well," Evuniala, her Mistress, said as she sat on the bed next to Lavellan. "Can you continue?"

"Yes, Mistress. For you." Tired as she was, Lavellan knew she spoke the truth.

"Good." Her Mistress laid down next to her, and Lavellan scooted down, parting Mistress' thighs and inhaling the rich scent of arousal. "Make me climax, Adhlea."

"I obey."


End file.
